


Chanel

by 2amphan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Chaptered, Depression, Drug Addiction, Drugs, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Modeling, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2018-12-29 23:21:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12095667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2amphan/pseuds/2amphan
Summary: Daniel Howell if a famous model, and although he has everything he could ever ask for, he can’t help but feel empty. Young and naive, the fame and fortune get the best of him as he falls back on drugs and alcohol. Through everything, he feels worthless, but to Dan’s surprise someone comes to save him before he’s too far gone





	1. An Everyday Reality

_ daniel james howell // 26 // model for chanel _

“Dan?” A shrill, feminine voice called, followed by knocking on Dan’s dressing room door. “Hurry the hell up! I’ve been standing out here for way too damn long and the reporter is here.” He groaned, slowly getting up off the couch.This was his second interview of the day, and considering how his management had been acting, it probably wouldn’t be the last. He unlocked the door and stared down at his manager, Ashley, who was red faced and pissed off. Ashley was a surprisingly intimidating person for her size. She stood at a meager five foot and wore clothes that seemed to dangle off of her petite frame no matter what size she chose. Their height difference was comical, but she was strict business and better at persuasion than Dan could ever imagine being. She grabbed him by the wrist and led him down the hallway towards an interview room, speaking quickly about who was interviewing him, what he’d be asked, and what he should say. The magazine he was getting interviewed for was pretty high up there, written and published by prestigious people. No witty jokes, no crude humor. They wanted straightforward and clearly explained answers. Dan stepped into the room and it suddenly felt as if his entire career was on the line. 

He scanned the room, it seemed like a completely regular magazine interview. A couple cameramen lined the outskirts of the room, studio lights were positioned so that he’d look his best, and two chairs sat in the center of the room for him and the reporter. The oddest sight was of the young man who occupied the reporter’s chair. He looked as if he should be taking Dan’s spot as the model. The man had sharp features and inky black hair that accentuated his impressively teal eyes. Usually, Dan was being interviewed by an older woman or man, and even when the reporter was of a younger age, he couldn’t recall ever seeing anyone with such shocking beauty. 

“Are you the reporter?” Dan asked the man.

“Yes I am! My name is Phil,” he set his paper and pen on his chair and stood up to greet Dan. “It’s nice to meet you!” Phil’s mouth turned slightly upwards into a crooked smile.

“You too. So what deep and thought provoking questions do you have for me, Phil?” Dan grinned and took a seat. He really enjoyed how Phil’s name rolled off his tongue. 

“Probably the same old stuff you’re used to getting, sorry ‘bout that. Like the ‘how do you manage to look so incredibly good all the time?’ and ‘any exciting shoots or events happening?’” Dan blushed at the subtle compliment, silently scolding himself for blushing at a compliment from some random reporter. He gets compliments all the time, it’s virtually his job. So why had this one affected him so much? 

***

The interview went well, better than the one that occurred earlier in the day. Dan couldn’t tell if it was the questions or the reporter himself who made the time better, but he couldn’t help but suspect the latter. He was in a noticeably better mood was noticeably than before the interview started, and Ashley quickly caught on. His wider eyes, the better posture, a more double sided conversation. It was all noticeable and although Ashley was a ‘strict business’ type of woman, it didn’t mean she was an idiot. Considering she had been working with Dan for two years, she knew the difference between his good moods and his great moods. She sifted through her purse for a minute, digging underneath heaps of makeup and receipts before pulling out a business card. It was simply designed in blue, and in the bottom corner sat the words Phil Lester in white, underlined by a phone number. She continued conversation normally as they set out towards the parking lot. In the doorway she discreetly slid the card into his coat pocket whilst saying goodbye. As much as Dan frustrated her from time to time, she wanted him to be happy, and if he couldn’t take that matter into his own hands then she would, just like she did everything else. 


	2. Don't Save Him

Dan was silent on the ride back to his house, not even bothering to speak to his driver. Although Phil had brought a little ray of light into his day, the ride back was always somber. His house was a retreat from the public eye, a quiet space for him to recharge, but the quiet left him feeling empty. There was no lover, roommate nor pet for him to look forward to, it was just an empty mansion that held no value other than real estate. It was quite an envy for most people, located on a hillside that overlooked the wide expanse of the city around him. Modern angles and colors jutted out from the exterior of the house, and a gorgeous infinity pool was situated on the large patio. He was lucky, speaking in terms of wealth and material things, most people would give up everything for what Dan had, but he couldn’t bring himself to care - and it was tearing him apart. What more could he want for god sake? Was he really so greedy and selfish that he still wanted more, when he already had everything? Even with all his wealth he felt worthless, and although he could buy anything he wanted, he couldn’t help but feel empty and the more he thought the worse he felt.

Anxiety traveled quickly from Dan’s feet into his stomach and tears began to prickle in the corners of his eyes. His face deepened its pink hue and his lips swelled with frustration. He banged his fist against the countertop silently, vexation with himself grew but the words he wanted to scream got lost in his throat. His back bobbed up and down as he hiccuped loudly. A thick, knot of anger began to grow in his throat, becoming larger and larger until his voice was reduced to nothing but a pathetic, whimpering croak.

He stood like that for a while, staring blankly at the countertop below him, attempting to collect his scattered thoughts and place them back where they belong, but that was proving to be a challenge. The anxiety was long gone, it lasted only minutes before being overtaken by frustration, but that soon fell away too, leaving him with nothing. He felt empty, like a blank canvas owned by a struggling artist - never to be completed. He finally stood up straight, revealing bloodshot eyes that accented his sallow face. All his features seemed darker, more sunken in and splotchy. 

He slowly made his way to the front door. He needed to get out, to feel something, to submerge himself in something, to do anything other than sit alone in this isolated bleakness. He didn’t bother grabbing a coat on his way out, preferring the icy bite of the autumn air more than the feeling of nothing at all. As soon as he was in the car, his brain went on autopilot, immediately knowing where to go, considering it was always the same place.

When these moods consumed him, he always had a place to go. It wasn’t safe, nor was it legal but it satisfied his needs and that’s all that mattered. It lay underneath a musty dive bar. Neon lights covered the outside of the decaying building, a lazy attempt to cover the cracking walls and peeling paint. Smoke rose from the grates in the alley way beside the building and a tattooed woman wearing a skimpy dress stood leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. She eyed Dan up and down carefully before returning to her smoke.

The inside of the building smelled of smoke and must. A few men sat at the bar, their faces drowned out by the glowing neon signs that littered the walls, none of them even bothered looking at Dan, their heads were too caught up in the taste of whiskey. The bartender looked up at him and nodded, she already knew where he was headed and had no plan to stop him.


End file.
